


The Moon and the Willows

by Rosencrantz



Series: Ghost Stories - Fandom [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Battlefield, Dancing, Gen, Ghosts, Nymphs & Dryads, Responsibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/pseuds/Rosencrantz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>On a cool, crisp, autumn morning, Lucy woke in Mr. Tumnus’ house and went to the kitchen for cocoa and stories.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The dead can walk the earth, that Lucy knew from cleaning up after the White Witch, but not always for a haunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moon and the Willows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_la_grecque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_la_grecque/gifts).



> I too love Lucy.

On a cool, crisp, autumn morning, Lucy woke in Mr. Tumnus’ house and went to the kitchen for cocoa and stories. She had come the previous day and intended to make the most of her visit.

Lucy Pevensie was not very old, but she was a queen and a queen of Narnia to boot. Time with Tumnus, hearing all his wonderful stories was special to her. Faun time was separate from queen time.

And right now she needed it. She and her royal siblings had just gotten back from dealing with a nasty haunting far off from their home in Cair Paravel.

“You’ll get those,” said Mr. Tumnus as he poured their drinks. “At this time of year there’s more witches and haunts than you can shake a stick at. Me oh my, it’s terrible.”

Lucy had her legs tucked under her in a way that was most unladylike but fauns didn’t chastise you for that and really, it was much more comfortable that way. “I don’t like hauntings,” she said.

“No one does,” said Mr. Tumnus. “Dead things should stay dead, that’s how I’ve always felt. You miss them, of course, but once someone’s gone it’s best for all involved that they stay that way. Otherwise there’s problems.”

“This one,” said Lucy, leaning in confidingly, “turned all red and tried to send Peter tumbling down a cliff.”

“Well. I’m glad you all came out okay,” said Mr. Tumnus. His hand shook as he stirred his cocoa. “How about a nicer bit of talk then? I promised you stories last night, didn’t I? What do you want to hear, Lucy?”

Lucy tapped her chin and thought. The shadows were higher than normal in Mr. Tumnus’ little home, but the home was cozy and warm. A fire burned and crackled in the fireplace.

“What are things that are like ghosts, but aren’t ghosts?” asked Lucy.

“I said nicer things!” cried Mr. Tumnus. “Not more haunts!” But he smiled despite it.

“Something that won’t hurt us,” said Lucy, in compromise.

Tumnus nodded. “River gods. Dryads. They’re not quite like alive, but they’re around us anyway.”

Lucy’s smile was brilliant. She remembered in her first days of queen, dancing with the cherry blossom women that lived in Cair Paravel’s courtyard, and being spun about by gentle hands made of birch leaves, and women-not-women who were clad in white birchbark dresses. And at the bacchanal there had been transparent men that would not stray from the nearest watersource. Women too, now that Lucy thought of it. It had been a heady event.

Tumnus continued. “You may get to know them better - the kings and queens of Narnia of old, they had dryad blood in them. Their children married all the human-like spirits of Narnia. They were a wild dynasty.” 

“Oh, perhaps I shall marry a dryad then,” said Lucy. They were lovely, as plant women went, and Lucy being a young girl liked pretty things very much.

“You don’t have to decide now,” said Mr. Tumnus. He sat back in his chair and told Lucy of a tale of a spirited princess of Narnia, who had used her Dryad mother’s powers to grow a protective hedge of thorns around a tower she was trapped in before falling into an enchanted sleep, to keep out those who would interfere with her safety. 

“Was she ever rescued?” asked Lucy.

“Oh yes,” said Mr. Tumnus. “Eventually a rather clever little robin came and pecked her sharply on the forehead and that woke her up right away.”

He glanced out the window. “Oh dear me, it’s getting late in the afternoon, Lucy. Are you sure you don’t want to spend another night?”

Lucy shook her head. “If I hurry… the moon was so bright last night, I should be fine tonight too. I really need to get home!” She got up, pecked Mr. Tumnus on the cheek, and quickly made away to hurry back to Cair Paravel. 

“Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know!” called out Mr. Tumnus as Lucy left. “You don’t know what it could really be!”

The shadows were growing longer, and the dying grass swished and brushed against her skirt as she travelled. Sometimes she would be startled at voices, but they were more often than not a Talking Animal calling out a greeting to their queen.

But as fast as she walked, time was swifter and the moon rose into the sky long before she got home.

Somehow she’d gotten a little turned around on her walk home and came into familiar surroundings. 

Surroundings she did not like.

It was the battlefield, where they had fought the White Witch.

The battlefield was where they had become Narnians. Where they had nearly lost Edmund.

The battlefield had been left untouched. 

After all these years, the ground was still churned up from the battle, and - here Lucy had to look aside - there was chunks of statuary, the animals that had never gotten their chance to change back. Moss had grown onto the stone faces, the stone limbs.

Lucy looked to the east, the way to Cair Paravel. But, she realized, the way to Cair Paravel was further south than east. The paths had twisted around until she was in a part of the battlefield further than any visit before. Lucy shivered. Getting home couldn’t come soon enough!

A cool wind blew at Lucy’s back as she re-oriented herself in the moonlight to get to Cair Paravel.

Shapes rose up like fingers grasping at the sky and a shiver ran down her back before she realized it must be a section of the forest that had gotten burnt. The woods… Lucy decided to pay her respects to the lost trees. 

She was a queen and she’d never truly paid respect to those who had died, she realized. Those woods might even have had dryads, members of the royal family before her! The history of Narnia weighed on her shoulders.

She walked towards the dark grasping dead trees. On a crisp cool night, with the moon looking down at her, it felt right to be visiting a place with history like this.

And that's when she saw it. Right in the middle of a small dip, where there should have been char like the surrounding burnt out woods, were five silver willows almost glowing in the moonlight. They sat in a circle, branches impossible to tell which belonged to which trunk, trunks themselves branching out widely. In their circle, there was regrowth of grass far beyond the little circle of life in the charred ground. 

Lucy slid down the small hill to get closer to the willows. They were completely untouched, even with the burnt out skeletons of unlucky trees surrounding them. Their leaves glinted silver in the moonlight, narrow and fine.

"Aren't you lovely," whispered Lucy as she reached out to put her palm on the dark trunk of the nearest silver willow. The leaves hadn't changed yet for the season, they should have been a soft shade of yellow. _Odd_ , thought Lucy.

At her touch the trunk shivered, and a hand reached out, grasping Lucy's.

Lucy gave a delighted laugh. "You're dryads!" 

To prove her right, five women made of swirling leaves came billowing out of their respective trees. Lucy bowed low to them, and they bowed back.

"I'm so glad you survived the fire!" cried Lucy, taking the leafy hands of the two nearest. Their silver leaves glowed blue. The moon's light, Lucy reflected, had some strange effects when it was this bright. She could see so clearly in front of her. 

The blue-silver dryads laughed, their laughs made from the sound of leaves rubbing together in the wind, and spun Lucy around in a dance. 

Worries about getting home before dawn forgotten, Lucy danced and played with the dryads, until finally she had to beg exhaustion and laid down on the soft thick grass in-between their trees to sleep until morning.

And when she awoke in the cold dawn, she awoke to hard, charred black ground with the skeletons of five burnt trees surrounding her.

**Author's Note:**

> Moon by [Hawksmont](http://hawksmont.deviantart.com/) and willow branches by [Hajek-Barbara](http://hajek-barbara.deviantart.com/)
> 
> Beta by the lovely Rav and my Narnia pal [Snacky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Snacky). 
> 
>  
> 
> **Titles I nearly used:**
> 
>  
> 
> If You Go Down To The Woods Tonight  
> Not All Willows Weep  
> Dancing With The Past
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **FUN TRIVIA:**
> 
>  
> 
> My spellcheck really wants to spell Narnians as 'Martians' so take that AU as you will.


End file.
